


it will be okay

by orphan_account



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: But for the purposes of this fic, But it makes me sad., He tries with pills, I cried while writing this, after Evan's suicide attempt, dear evan hansen - Freeform, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 14:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: after Evan's suicide attempt, just kinda a drabble based on Heidi and Evan.





	it will be okay

**Author's Note:**

> hope someone enjoys this!

Evan took a deep breath. Made sure that the life he was barely feeling wasn't a hyper-realistic hallucination. His stomach hurt, he thinks. He's never too sure of anything he ever feels, anymore.

Evan had hoped that the pills would've taken care of that, just like his therapist told him. Just like his mom told him. 

Just like, in his not-so-final final moments, he told himself. 

He was supposed to be dead- not on scratchy sheets that reminded him far too much of the ones he had at home. Not being blinded by the sunshine that gleamed outside his window. Dead. Final. An abandoned memory, and just as insignificant as he was when he was alive. 

 _"Evan Hansen,"_ they'd say, _"just a blip on our radar, and I don't think any of what I'm saying matters. Just like he didn't. Just like he_ _doesn't_." That's what he wanted. That's what he wanted? Well, for now, that's what he _thinks_ he wanted. But, then again, no one really cares what he thinks.

Surveying the surroundings, Evan realised he was not alone. His mom was slumped on a chair, looking as dead as Evan wished he was. It was scary: Evan had partially wished that his mother would die from shock, so that she could stop working herself to death, and then the Hansen family would be nothing more than a Colorado shaped speck. If his father even really existed- maybe that was a made up thing, just like the concept of happiness. The concept of feeling, and feeling fine.

"Mom?" His throat felt sore, probably from hours of neglect and abuse. She sprung awake, wrinkles falling back in to place on her face, and were her eye bags more pronounced? Evan didn't know. Cause he's stupid. Stupid, selfish, unnecessary, _stupid, selfish, unnecessary, stupidselfishunecessary_. He took another deep breath. Doesn't do very much to calm him down but maybe that's just because he's not meant to be calm, he's just meant to be down, six feet under, _dead_.

"Evan! Deep breaths, you can do it, in for ten, and hold, and out for 5. Oh, Evan, I. I don't know what to say." She petted his matted forehead, the greasy hair slick against his forehead, but it was comforting. It felt like an apology, but what for? This was not her fault. Just Evan, and his stupid head. Stupid Evan. _Stupidstupidstup_ -

He catches himself before he can fall down that hole again. Just lets a tear roll down his cheek, and his mother clutches him impossibly closer to her chest. He still feels disconnected, still knows that this can't be fixed, still knows that he can't be fixed. His stupid head and his stupid self just cant be found. It doesn't matter how hard his mother may try to patch everything up with take-out or his therapist may try to get through to him through those stupid letters, he'll still be stupidly broken. 

* * *

 

Evan woke up again. His face was sticky with tears, and his head was spinning. His mom was still gripping his t-shirt, like if she let go, then he would try and let go of life again. The throbbing pain in his stomach had subsided to a constant vibration, and he almost felt the need to eat something. He thinks, still doesn't know. _Stupidstupidstupid._

He still relaxes in to his mothers touch, feeling the thing he'd been so deprived of for so long, thinking that any moment now she'll say:  _shit, gotta run, I'm late for work, I love you,_ and that makes him hold on to her, on to this moment, so tightly. He doesn't want to slip through the cracks again. Or does he? He doesn't know.

A quiet knock on the door. A nurse, staring at the scene in front of her, maybe wishing she could do this with her child, but no, she has to look after this stupid pile of broken glass.  Here's hoping she doesn't cut herself on the jagged pieces.

"Evan, how are you feeling?" Her voice was smooth, like chocolate or silk, and Evan let her velvety voice caress him. 

"P-physically or. Or- uh mentally?" She smiled too softly.

"Why not both?"

"M-mentally? M-maybe a two out of f-five. Physically? Mayb-maybe a four?" His throat still hurt, but his stomach didn't feel like it was getting scrambled anymore. So. He thinks that's good?

"Okay, thank you. I'll be checking in on you again, in about an hour, and then tomorrow we'll start to make preparations for you to start seeing a therapist more often. You'll be okay. I swear- they can't do anything bad to you." The only thing 'bad' they can do to Evan is to force him to do like- group therapy. Or try and make him explain why he did it. He wasn't fucking _mental_ , he had just. Wanted the noise to _stop_. Felt like, maybe if he was dead, life would be better. But still, realistically, Evan doesn't think 'better' exists.  

"Oh. O-okay." Is this supposed to make him better? 

Evan doesn't know.

* * *

 

"Evan, baby, wake up. Gotta take your meds." Why was his mother still here? Why was _he_ still here? His body still worked on muscle memory: swallow the pill, close his eyes again, and dream of sleeping forever. "I- Evan, I'm so sorry. I had no idea- I didn't know that you felt like this, I didn't know, but what I do know is I love you. That will never change. No matter how much you change, you will still be my baby boy. You, are all that I have, and all that I need, and I'm so, _so_ sorry for not being there when you needed me most. I'm just sorry, I need you to know that." 

"Mom, mom, I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to, I just-"

"No, Evan, it's okay. Actually, it isn't okay. But it will be. _It will be."_

* * *

 

For the next few weeks, that's the only thing Evan tells himself.  _It will be okay. It will be okay._

Maybe that's the only thing truly keeping him alive. As he struggles through each day, he somehow begins to feel again. Admits to himself that maybe he wasn't okay.

But he will be.

 


End file.
